


Can't Win

by prettytothinkso



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Complicated Relationships, M/M, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sad Zayn, i will def add more tags as i go on srry :(, zayn leaves, zouis friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:31:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9100525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettytothinkso/pseuds/prettytothinkso
Summary: Louis has always been impulsive, they had all known that. But this was ridiculous. “You’re being more of a dickhead than usual,” Zayn said to his friend, who was currently on the edge of one of the Cliffs of Mojer. “It’s a sheer drop,” Louis cackled. “120 meters to the Atlantic, Zayn.”  His eyes sparkled and his lips curved into a smirk. “Splat.”





	1. Chapter 1

“There’s no way you can sneak past him,” Zayn whispered, observing the bodyguard standing right outside their hotel door.

Louis tsked softly. “It’s hard, but it’s a challenge, yeah?”

He rolled his eyes. “Last time they caught us, Paul threw the biggest fit.”

Louis slapped his arm gently. “It’s been way too long. We can’t not sneak out when we’re in Brazil, Zayn, that’s just wrong.”

Zayn chewed on the inside of his mouth as he weighed the pros and cons. “You have Mary, right?”

“Yes, you idiot, I do.”

Nodding wordlessly, Zayn slid over and fingered the pebble in his hands.

* * *

The second the cab stopped, Zayn leapt out and almost started skipping as he inhaled the crisp night air.

Louis’ adrenaline was still evident, in the way he jumped and whooped, making grabby hands at Zayn. “Alright, where to, Z?”

Lou’s eyes were absolutely glittering by this point and this was the side of Louis’ that Zayn loved best: the free, flying boy that no longer had to contain all his energy inside. He remembered seeing Louis before XFactor finals, when they were all backstage, anxiety and nervousness pounding at all of them but Louis had it worse. He was trembling terribly, the genuine energy and fear being forcibly contained within his small teenage frame. It was obvious he was trying his best to hide his worry, because being worried would show that you thought you weren’t good enough, that you were the weakest singer in the group.

Zayn had put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye, letting him see that the anxiety was shared and it was okay to show their insecurities. Louis opened his mouth slightly and whimpered, giving an opening for all that contained energy. They clutched at each other’s hands with tension riding through them like waves until their names were called.

But now, in this moment, Louis was letting Zayn see him without any filters, without a second thought, and Zayn felt a fondness rush through him.

“Well?” Louis demanded impatiently, tapping his foot rapidly against the ground.

Zayn laughed, pulling his partner in crime along, to the nearest night-club. “Come on, grannie.”

A chance like this was incredibly rare, so they both continued tipping shots down their throats, demanding more before the glass even hit the counter. They let the beat thrum under their feet until the world spun around them. At some point, Zayn found himself pinned to the wall by a burly young man.

“Hey pretty,” his breath was hot against his neck.

Zayn smiled briefly, his eyes still closed and then tilted his chin up. Come on, he knew he looked damn fit. The dim lights of the club danced off of his sharp cheekbones and Zayn looked up at the man through his eyelashes. “Can I help you?” He asked.

The man laughed, delighted, and began tucking his fingers into the waistband of Zayn’s jeans.

Something flashed in Zayn’s eyes and he reached down with slender fingers to stop the man. “Sorry, maybe not tonight,” he purred.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the man swatted his hand away.

Zayn felt his lip curl. “Louis,” he said simply. “Lou. Louis.”

Seconds later, a hand fell onto the shoulder of the burly man. “Maybe catch a hint, eh?”

The man turned around to glare at Louis, who just swept his fringe out of his eyes. “He’s obviously out of your league,” he continued. “But of course, I understand if that head of yours is too thick to understand when it’s a hopeless cause.”

The man angrily let go of Zayn to face the interruption full frontal but he smiled brilliantly when he saw Louis all at once.

Zayn rolled his eyes. Definitely a drunkard.

“God, you’re pretty too,” the man giggled. “What’d I do to be surrounded by so many pretty people?”

Louis frowned and pulled Zayn by the wrist. “We’re not just pretty people.”

Zayn looked back one last time at the overwhelmed drunkard and felt excitement rush through him. He hadn’t felt this alive in ages. “Gods.”

They stumbled out the club, arms tossed around each other so if one fell, two would go down.

“Where’d we go last time?” Zayn wondered, racking his mind in that euphoric bliss that came with being drunk.

“Doesn’t matter, find us a new one,” Louis laughed.

Ten minutes later, the two had ended up on the rooftop of a random building, legs dangling over the edge as they passed a joint around.

Zayn leaned back, letting the cold air make its way into his shirt and he stared up at the black expanse that was the sky. Breathing in smoothly again, he felt the smoke encase him and felt himself lifting higher and higher.

“Where do you think we’ll be in 2 years?” Louis asked softly. And when Zayn looks over at him he sees the same scared teenage boy from XFactor, the boy terrified of the future and possibilities and change.

“Who the fuck cares? We’ll probably still be running off and smoking weed on rooftops.”

“Perfect then,” Louis sighed contently, the confident mask back up.

The roof tiles dug into Zayn’s back uncomfortably but he wouldn’t give this moment up for the world.

“I wonder if they noticed that we’re gone yet,” Louis mused.

“Probably. Harry’s probably freaking out,” Zayn said, amusement tinting his voice.

He scoffed. “And Liam?”

“Stop,” Zayn warned. “Let’s not talk about this.”

“We’re fucking screwed, Zayn.”

“That’s good then,” he said. “There’s no one else I’d rather be fucked with.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, letting the smoke encase their entire world until their universe had shrunk to that tiny, dirty rooftop.

“We should head back,” Zayn said finally. It had been hours and the refreshing cool air had now turned into an angry, bitter wind. If he didn’t offer to leave, Louis would never bring it up.

He made a sound of agreement. “Oh yeah, Zayn?”

“Mm?’

“You look even angsty-teenager than usual on this rooftop. With the smoke around you and all, the leather jacket—a proper douchebag.”

Zayn couldn’t help the brash laugh that came out of him. “Let’s go, you fucker.”

* * *

The good news was that Paul wasn’t mad. He just looked at them with exhaustion and relief in his eyes and sent them up to their joint hotel room.

The bad news was that everyone else was.

“Where the hell did you go?” Harry shouted the instant they entered the room.

“Haz, calm down,” Louis immediately walked towards him with his arms out.

“Stop scaring us like that,” Liam frowned, his gaze lingering on Zayn.

Zayn plopped down on the small sofa. “We just went for a quick night out.”

“It’s been hours, you couldn’t have bothered to text us?” Harry was positively enraged. He’d always been the one to show all his emotions, his actions completely unfiltered and genuine.

“Sorry,” Louis shrugged and sat down next to Zayn. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, is it? We do this all the time,” Zayn said. He prodded Niall with his foot. “They’re overreacting aren’t they?”

Niall sighed and moved towards Liam and Harry. “I was freaked out too, to be honest. You guys got mobbed last time, remember? We had Paul and the others searching for the past two hours.”

Zayn took in the fidgeting of Harry’s hand, showing the pent-up tension he had been harboring all night.

Louis must’ve seen too, because he grabbed Harry’s hands and guided him to sit beside him. “I’m sorry,” he said, with genuine guilt in his voice.

“Yeah,” Zayn seconded, meeting Liam's gaze.

“It’s fine if you guys need to run away by yourselves sometimes,” Liam sighed, finally letting his shoulders sag. “Just tell us beforehand, alright?”

“Okay,” they chorused.

Zayn met Louis’ eyes and knew that it was a lie. Their rooftop nights were an escape, a way to completely isolate themselves from the world and pretend the future wasn’t coming. Telling someone about it beforehand would ruin the freedom and exhilaration they got from running away.

They’d deal with the consequences the next time. For now, Zayn wanted nothing more than to fall against Liam’s broad chest and let his eyes slip shut.

* * *

The moment Zayn blinked his eyes open the next morning, he knew it was going to be a bad day.

“You’re going to be late,” Harry yelled at him from the small hotel kitchen. “We have an interview in two hours.”

“Fuck interviews,” Zayn grumbled, clutching tightly at the warm body in front of him. “Fuck everything.”

“Come on, Zayn,” Liam stretched and yawned. “We gotta get up.”

He whined as Liam entered the bathroom, leaving a cold space behind. He had that deep sinking feeling in his chest again, an anchor almost, then tacked him to the bed. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to leave this room and go into that world with flashing cameras and interviewers with fake, toothy smiles.

“Zayn…” Liam said softly, reaching down to caress his cheek. “Come on man, you’re really gonna be late.”

“I don’t fucking care.” Liam knew when he was in one of his moods and he knew he couldn’t get Zayn out of it.

Moments later, pounding footsteps neared him and a heavy weight collapsed next to him.

“Zay-nie,” Louis sing-songed. “You better get the fuck up now.”

“Stop,” Zayn warned, clenching his eyes shut. “You’re too loud.”

He could almost feel Louis roll his eyes. Suddenly, a cigarette was jabbed in his mouth, dry and hard.

“What—“

“Aren’t you always up for a smoke?” Louis raised his eyebrows. “Come on now.” He reached for a lighter.

“My mouth’s nasty.”

“Good motivation for getting up then.” Zayn groaned.

“Please, just—“

And then he was on the floor.

“What the fuck, Louis, I’m not in the mood for your shit right now!” He leapt up, rubbing his sore bum.

“Well then maybe stop pissing at all of us and think that maybe we’re all tired too but we’re gonna go to this damn interview and so will you!” Louis screamed back, never one to stay silent.

Zayn sagged and felt the anchoring feeling finally slip away until there was just exhaustion.

“Thanks,” he tossed over his shoulder as he headed towards the bathroom.

“Anytime.”

* * *

Liam was overwhelming throughout the entire interview, with nonstop touches and checkups on Zayn.

“I’m fine,” he whispered yet again, to no avail.

Liam frowned slightly at him and opened his mouth only to be interrupted by the interviewer.

“So are any of you planning on marrying anytime soon? Liam?”

“I definitely want to settle down yeah,” he switched his attention back to the interviewer smoothly. “But as for when, I don’t know yet.”

“Do you think it’s in the near future?”

“I mean, it all depends on the person I think. It would have to be the right person and then we would have to progress on our own terms, I definitely don’t want to rush or anything like that.”

She nodded in understanding. “And you, Zayn?”

He snapped his head towards her, caught by surprise. “Um, I haven’t given it much thought really, I don’t, I don’t really know.”

“He likes being free, this one,” Louis cut in and they all laughed before moving on to the next topic.

He really didn’t have an answer, Zayn realized as he feels the slight weight of Liam’s fingers on his thigh. Damn.

“I think a large part of it is not planning.”

Zayn turned his attention to Louis.

“What’s the fun in planning your whole life out you know?” he continued. “There’s a thrill in not knowing what’s going to happen in a month, or a year.”

Zayn watched his best friend and saw the lie. There’s no way that the boy he laid stretched out on the rooftop wasn’t scared of change, hadn’t driven himself halfway to madness stressing over the future. But that’s a weakness you shouldn’t show supposedly. Don’t show that you’re scared of the future as an artist or else it’s like confessing that you feel inferior to everyone around you.

Niall’s brash dolphin laugh cut in at something Louis said and Zayn almost felt envious. Not everyone can be so carefree. He certainly can’t.

Liam’s fingers thrummed on his leg, drawing his mind back to the interview.

Shooting a grateful look at him, Zayn watched the interview continue around him, his bandmates passing the microphone around while he merely observed. 

It was always the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism really helps me! Please leave kudos or comment, it makes my day :)


	2. Chapter 2

Niall whooped and thrust his fist up as he ran off stage. “That was the best show we've had in ages!”

“No Red Bull cans thrown at me this time,” Harry grumbled.

“Lots of lingerie, though,” Liam said.

Louis laughed. “It was mainly at Zayn anyway, you lads aren't worthy.”

“Thank goodness,” Harry smiled brightly and hooked his arm around Zayn. “You're a Greek God and this is the first time I've been glad about that.”

Zayn collapsed onto the nearest chair, dropping his microphone onto the nearest surface. “I'm exhausted, though. Utterly spent.”

Louis frowned at him. “But we all said we'd go clubbing after this show. We don't have another chance until after we leave South America.”

“Come on Zayn, don't be a bum,” Niall clapped a hand on his back.

“No, I really--”

“Please?” Harry blinked at him, bottom lip already jutting out. “For us?”

Liam caught Zayn’s helpless expression and shook his head. “No, if Zayn doesn't want to go, don't force him.”

Louis crossed his arms and took on the bitchy face that had been making more appearances these days. “He's being an idiot. If he doesn't go tonight, he'll just get grumpy in a week because we'll have to wait until after this part of the tour to have a lads’ night again.”

Zayn glared at Louis’ stance and grit his teeth. Soft fingers brushed against his arm and be turned to see Liam's concerned expression.

“If you'd rather stay in and rest, I'll stay with you,” he offered. “I'm a bit tired myself anyway.”

Zayn knew he was lying, saw the leftover excitement and adrenaline from the show still dancing behind his eyes. He saw Harry biting down on his lip and how Niall was basically skipping in place by the door, already waiting for them. He couldn't do that to them.

“Alright,” he sighed. “I'll go.”

Liam protested. “Zayn--”

“No, no, it's fine,” Zayn smiled. “Lou’s right, I should take this chance. And besides--it's gonna be a lads’ night right? Haven't had one of those in a while.”

“Lads’ night!” Niall hollered and grabbed Harry's hand. “Off we go!”

* * *

It started off well enough. The occasional flirts and drunkards circling around him and Liam cycling around to check on him once in a while.

“Liam,” Zayn caught his wrist before he could head back into the sweaty crowd. “Stop worrying, yeah? I'm really alright.” He said softly as he tightened his grip on Liam's wrist slightly. “You really don't have to do all this.”

He tilted his head and pursed his lips slightly. “Worry about you?”

“Yeah, don't. At least not so much.”

“I always will, Zayn,” he said seriously and backed Zayn up against the counter. “You can always count on it.”

Zayn rolled his eyes and let some tension trickle off of him. “Alright but wrinkles don't look good on you.”

Liam laughed, thank god, for the first time that night. With one last squeeze of Zayn's fingers, he let himself be drawn back into the crowd.

Zayn leaned back against the bar for a while, doing nothing except sipping his drink periodically and letting the colored lights wash over him. There was always the screaming though, the occasional PDA couple smacking into him.

You would think he'd be accustomed to the screaming by now. What with the fans and all the reporters clamouring for his attention. It should be background noise by this point. Zayn knows it has become white noise for the other boys, knows that it can even be relaxing for some of them at certain times. But no, never to him. He would never admit it to Louis, but the screaming, the fans, the paparazzi had always terrified him. He was just a small town boy, insecurities lining his face and his voice, and there were all these voices fighting for his attention.

Sometimes, he felt like pizza dough almost, being stretched thin and tossed completely at the whims of other people. Stretched so much that he was afraid that at some point, he would become so thin he would be useless.

“Stop brooding,” Harry popped in front of him, cold drink splashing onto Zayn's shirt. Neither of them cared.

“Can't.”

“This is our night out though. Want me to help you find someone?” His eyes immediately began scanning the crowd. 

“No,” Zayn shook his head immediately. “No, don't.”

Harry’s green eyes bore into him for a while. If this was two years ago, Zayn would've felt awkward. But he knew Harry well enough now, and he recognized that eye contact was just the way Harry tried to figure people out, to peel away their layers and see into their core. Even if it did get creepy as hell sometimes.

“Maybe I'll just stay with you,” Harry smiled pleasantly.

“Yeah. That'd be nice.”

They stood in silence for a while before Harry started rapping his foot impatiently. “Let's go out for a smoke.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Harry, you hate cigarettes.”

Harry merely shrugged and began pushing towards the exit, Zayn in tow.

It was much colder tonight, compared to his rooftop night with Louis. Inhaling deeply, Zayn let the smoke curl down his throat and into his lungs, relishing in the warm burn it left behind. He loved how beautiful smoking could be, how easily the nicotine could slide into his blood and become one substance.

It was an addiction.

Next to him, Harry coughed and began waving the smoke away from his face. “This smells horrible, why do you do this?”

Zayn quirked a smile. “Why'd you offer to come out with me then? I'll have you know, Liam will kill you if he finds out you encouraged my addiction.”

“Don't tell him then, easy.” Harry slumped against the wall and stared up at the sky, white irises almost ghastly in the dark. His lips were plump and wet, parted slightly.

He could understand why Louis was so infatuated with him. Harry was gorgeous, but in a totally different manner than Zayn. Harry was a strong jaw and big arms and hands, obviously a protector. But inside, he was the youngest of them all, requiring their protection and adoration.

“Is there something you’re not telling us, Zayn?” Harry said.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

Harry continued to look calmly at the sky. “It's not just Liam that's worried about you.”

Annoyance sparked inside Zayn. “Do the four of you seriously have conversations about my well-being or whatever? What fucking right do you think you have--”

"Calm down,” that deep voice commanded. His eyes softened again and he turned to Zayn. “We’re just worried, that's all. We can tell when you aren't feeling it.”

“I'm fine,” he said automatically, used to dealing with Liam's concerned phases.

“Don't lie, alright? Zayn, you--”

Zayn avoided his gaze with difficulty.

“You don't have to lie to us. I'm not pushing you to tell me, or us, if anything is really wrong, but you don't have to put on a mask for us either.”

It was a while before either of them spoke after that, instead letting the dulled beat of the music pound through mixed in with the crickets and cicadas.

“That's the nice thing about being in a band right?” Harry offered. “There are always other people who understand.”

Zayn nodded. “I guess--”

“Here, we have Zayn Malik and Harry Styles, having a relaxed moment outside of the Bona Fide Nightclub! This is Sugarscape, Harry, how is the party? How is South America in general? When will your next show be?” The interviewer galloped up to them, cameraman following, both with wide grins on their faces.

Zayn felt an inexplicable frustration rise up. He wasn't mad of course. They should have expected the paps with the blatant way they were standing on the street. It was standard by now.

“Of course, it's been amazing,” Harry answered smoothly, standing up slowly to beam into the camera. “The fans here have been incredible and we can't wait to visit the other continents and out on even more shows.”

Zayn felt his mouth moving before he could even form a coherent thought. “Yeah, we'd love to thank the fans, for giving us all this support and we can't wait for the next show which is coming up soon!”

The interviewer shot off more questions rapidly and Zayn noticed that despite her chipper tone, her eyes remained dull.

Harry was answering everything. “Yeah, yeah, it's really important to have a good support team--”

It was horrifying, that she was spitting out questions without reading off of a card. In a way, she had become the card, with all her words previously drafted and memorized. Zayn thought of how many times he repeated “I'm fine” to people today and received automatic nods before they sent him off to record the section again or to get ready for another appearance. He really wasn't that different.

Excusing himself to the bathroom, Zayn stubbed his cigarette out against the wall and all but ran away from the interview crew. He knew it was bad to ditch Harry like that but he could handle it alone. Definitely.

It was standing at the bathroom sink, with cold water dripping down his chin that Zayn realized, Harry was wrong. They may all be in the same band but they still retained their own personalities, their individual strengths and weaknesses.

Harry was wrong when he said he could understand.

* * *

**Zayn Malik is leaving One Direction?**

_On March 25, 2015, Zayn's decision to break from the globally successful boy group was announced on the official Facebook page._

_A close source claims that Zayn had been unhappy for a long time and that there had always been unresolved tensions between members of the group. Are there more secrets One Direction is hiding? What influenced Zayn's decision to leave so abruptly? And what do the remaining members think of this split?_

_We'll be back with answers soon. In the meantime, sign up for emails for the latest Pop Sugar exclusives and gossip on your favorite celebrities!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update whoo! 
> 
> as always, constructive criticism really helps me, please leave kudos or comment if you can :)

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism really helps me! Please leave kudos or comment, it makes my day :)


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